Yavin Station Control and Engineering Sectors

Trull had always been bad with small talk, even as a child. Taking vows and becoming a priest - a priest to the War God, no less - had been a rescue. Nobody expected social charm from clergy. Most even saw it as a sign that something was amiss. Priests were dour, silent types, or at least they were supposed to be. It made maintaining silence easy, from the moment they stepped into the lift and all through Corr's conversation. Underneath his helmet, Trull couldn't deny a smile at the exchange, but no outward sign of mirth was given. 

Yet at the same time, it felt awkward, standing next to Corr with that girl behind him, knowing she was almost certain to die soon. His head turned and he sized her up. She looked so... ordinary. He almost felt apologetic, like he needed to turn around and explain "I wish I could say this isn't personal, but it really is. You're aruetiise, and my god demands your death. No hard feelings? Just meet it bravely." It was ludicrous.

Oh Kad, the blows we take under the hammer of your Will, trapped against the anvil of the world. Make me malleable and strong, an able tool for your work.

He blinked rapidly. What was he thinking? Of course she had to die. Kad's will be done.

As the doors to the lift opened, Trull laid his spear at his back, letting it snap to the magnetic contact strip there and hang. He unslung his carbine and lifted his shield, stepping forward into the room to make sure all was clear. So it seemed to be. Looking back to the others, Trull jerked a nod to beckon them forward.

Kill Quietly.
Kill Quickly.
Kill Calmly.

Kill Quietly. Kill Quickly. Kill Calmly.

Killquietly. Killquickly. Killcalmly.

Killquietlykillquicklykillcalmly.

Quickly and quietly, kill calmly.

The mantra ran through Alec's mind over and over and over. The words repeated themselves so often they soon began to lose their meaning. Alec struggled for a moment to even remember what the word "quickly" meant. As for the word "kill" well…no Black Operations commando with the Galactic Security Assistance Force could ever forget the meaning of that one.

Alec's black and red helmet was just barely visible beyond the shadows in which he hid. The rest of the team, Brock, Cable, Dodge and Endo, hung back, their weapons angled out in different directions as they watched their own sectors of fire. Endo held the rear, Dodge the up angle, and Cable and Brock held out and forward, respectively. Alec reviewed the sensor data he was getting from his HUD, slightly surprised to see there were no living beings of any importance in the area.

The squad was working their way through the underbelly of the station. When the initial battle had begun in orbit, Tagira had taken both Black Operations squads and inserted them on board the station. First Group had been dumped off on one of the upper levels, to help secure the Control Center. Second Group, Alec's squad, had been delegated with the task of inserting as inconspicuously as possible and hiding out until the main sections of the station had been either taken or lost. Over a week had passed since the initial conflict had ended and the Jedi Peacekeeping Taskforce been forced out of the system. For over a week, Alec and his men had lain in silence within the bowels of the station, living off of their own nutrient cube supplies and recycled piss-water. Just another day.

Then the call had been made. The Mando Clans, working alongside GALSAF's main forces, were preparing for a major push to the Jedi Grand Temple. The attack was likely still days away, but the Clans would need the full power of the Station behind them if they were to succeed in subjugating the Jedi for arrest and deportation. Dodge had scoffed upon hearing that. As if the Mandalorians would simply be content arresting a bunch of Jedi and shipping them out elsewhere.
No. They'd all be killed. That was fine with Alec. He followed GALCOM's orders, not Jedi's, not Mandalorians. If those bloodthirsty ex-brethren of his wanted to slaughter hordes of innocent people, who was he to care?
After being activated, Alec's mission had been simple: Identify whatever pockets of Jedi resistance could be found and neutralize them. Rules of engagement were simple as well: Capture over kill, kill if need be.
Alec's squad carried no stun weapons in specific, though their wrist-gauntlets carried electric darts that would incapacitate even a Barabel on contact. That should be enough if anyone decided to cause trouble at the POW checkpoint Jig Company was supposed to be setting up. Alec hadn't been in touch with their company commander yet, though he hadn't heard any bad news over GALCOM's Unit-to-Unit channels, so he guessed their mission had gone well enough.

Alec viewed the incoming sensor data for several more moments before making a judgement call. Move up. He ordered, stepping out of the shadows and bringing his weapon, a Verpine assault carbine, up to bear ahead of him, Alec and his team continued moving down the dark, steam-filled corridor, their black armor nearly invisible.
The commando's gear was outfitted with the best non-stealth camouflaging paints and materials money could buy. Each entire Katarn-Mark IV armor set was fitted with special black-grey paints that absorbed and diffused any incoming sensor waves as well as visible light. Each suit's enviro-controls ensured no heat loss would expose a commando to infrared equipment. The paint's ability to equitably diffuse light and sensor radiation prevented each commando from registering as non-entities to both the naked eye and to enemy equipment. Light absorbed from the environment was diffused by the armor's paint-scheme, blending each soldier to the eye's of others even at close ranges, as long as movement remained at a minimum. Each soldier's weapons and eligible equipment were also coated in the same materials, to include grenades and even knives.

Alec had been trained to believe stealth was a mindset, but the gear didn't hurt their chances of remaining undetected. The five commandos continued through the dim, steam-filled hallway, coolant and waste piping ran along the walls beside them. Access panels for pressure lines, electric coils and other pieces of machinery lay everywhere, confusing the sides and floors of the hallway at times.
Each commando kept their weapon on their own sector as the group moved forward, checking around corners and under machinery for people or traps of any kind. The only sounds Alec could hear from outside his own helmet were the hissing and gasping of steam and other gasses Alec was happy not to breathe. Even their own boots hardly made a sound thanks to the sound wave deadening materials in the soles.

After moving another fifty meters forward, Alec called for a halt and the team dropped to a crouch and pressed themselves to the closest wall. Endo slung his Verpine rifle and hefted his repeating blaster, releasing the bipods and laying prone to watch the avenue down which the squad had just traveled.
Brock crouched beside Alec, scanning ahead using his helmet systems, and carried on a silent conversation with his squad leader.
So, what'ya thinkin'? We close enough ye' we could break on outta here?
Alec shook his head. We're still on the lowest levels of the station. We have roughly three hundred meters to go before we can pop out on the other side, behind the Jedi holdings.
Brock nodded. Got'ya. When we do, we're shootin' on sigh', ya?
Alec shook his head again. Shoot on sight for combatants, yes, but only when we're outmatched. If we run into ones and twos, we'll take them into custody, knock them out and stow them away with coordinates for Jig Company to pick up and extract to the POW holding area within the barracks. For civilians, shoot only if they're armed and hostile, and even then, go for crippling not killing.
Brock knocked on Alec's thigh plate with a fist. Got'ya. Le's get a move on then.
Alec stood and put his weapon back up as the squad continued forward. Endo slung his repeating blaster once again and drew up the Verpine rifle as he followed along.




Lance Corporal Jules Aferty slung her weapon and drew the Verpine shatter pistol at her hip. The detainees she was watching sat in a line before her, against the far wall of the barracks room in which they were being held. Half of the barracks rooms had been converted for the holding of POW's their commandos had captured during the initial push into the station. The rest were being used to treat casualties from both sides. The Jedi combatants were separated as much as possible, isolated from one another to stem any sort of organization against the GALSAF commandos holding them. Each room held no more than a pair of soldiers at a time, and the rest of each room's occupants were civilians and support personnel.
Jules angled her pistol towards a pair of soldiers that had huddled together in the room's far corner, and conversing in hushed tones. "Ay, you lot there, get away from one another. And knock off the yappin'." Jules snapped, pointing the weapon threateningly. "We're not here to mistreat ya, but we can't have any resistance either, got meh?"
The two soldiers, both male, grumbled and slid away from one another. Jules lowered her pistol and nodded, "That's good enough. Now keep quiet."

"Any trouble?" A voice asked from outside the room. Jules stepped back to the doorway and spotted Sergent Hist Sroth. His chest plate was rent along the gut from a grenade round that had glanced off a wall and exploded a couple of days before, during the bulk of the fighting. Replacement plates were available, they were still tucked away on board the Flatterer, which was too busy dealing with its own necessary repairs to facilitate the transport of supplies.
"None at all, just a couple of buddies catching up, I suppose." Jules replied.
The Sergent nodded, his scaled tail whipping back and forth in irritation. He stepped forward and leaned against the wall, "King Company should be arriving within a couple of hours. They're bringing supplies and a group of detainees."
Jules grit her jaw in irritation, then rapped her knuckles against Sroth's chest plate. "They gonna have a spare for you to slap on?" The Sergent shruggled, his massive shoulders hefting the weight of the thick armor plates he wore.
"No idea," his helmet's vocoder rumbled, removing the accent from his voice and giving it a metallic tone. "But I've got plenty of decent armor beneath, I shouldn't need it."
Jules chuckled, "That's the attitude to have. Too bad I've got nothin' but skin 'neath here." She slapped her own chest plate.
Sergent Sroth released a short, rasping hiss, the equivalent of a Barabel laugh. "Just keep an eye on this group, let me know if you have any trouble."
The Lance Corporal nodded, "Will do, Sergent." She replied as he turned and walked off to check on the others in the squad. Jules looked back over her charges. Eight of them, in total, two soldiers the Peacekeeping Taskforce and six civvies. Jules let her pistol hand hand non-threatingly at her side. The two soldiers hadn't renewed their efforts at conversation, but she knew that wouldn't last. Jules would likely spend the rest of her time there fighting them off each other with waves of her firearm.
"So how long've you two been with the Yavinites?" Jules asked, fully aware her attempts at small-talk would do little to stem the awkwardness of the situation. One of the soldiers looked up at her glaringly, but remained silent. The other muttered under his breath something Jules didn't quite catch.
"What was that?" She asked. The soldier looked up at her, "Long enough to know the difference between right and wrong, how about you?" He bit out.
Jules shrugged, "Shades of grey, mate. In your eyes, I'm the baddy, in mine, you are. Why bother arguing what's in the meat when we're all gonna eat it anyways?"
The soldier shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Indifference is the easiest way for a society to grow accepting of war."
The Lance Corporal laughed. "My people were born for it. It's what we do best. You wouldn't ask a man to work metals if all his skills and tools were made for stone, would ya?" She retorted.
The soldier lifted an eyebrow. "He could always buy different tools, and learn another trade."
Jules frowned, "Semantics, that is."
"Deflection, that is." The soldier countered.
Jules shrugged, "Good point." She gave the man a once over, catching the officer's rank pinned to his chest.
"So're you some sort of idealist?" She asked.
"Just a man," was the soldier's reply.
Jules tilted her helmeted head to the side, "And I'm just a woman, what of it?"
The soldier didn't reply. Jules shrugged once more, if he didn't want to talk, that was fine with her.

Alec was stuck. The ventilation shaft he was attempting to squeeze through had sustained damage from some sort of electrical blow out that occurred during the initial push into the station. Several of the brackets holding the shaft's framework in place had been thrown loose, giving it an awkward dip that was roughly two meters long. Alec had shimmied himself into the dip, but when he had tried climbing through on the other side his torso had gotten lodged between the top edge of the partially collapsed frame and the bottom edge of the shaft that was still bolted in place. Silently, Alec swore to himself. His feet were hanging just inches above the bottom of the collapsed section of the shaft, preventing him from using his legs to push himself forward.
A little help here, if no one minds? Alec grunted over the commchannel. Within his helmet, he heard someone snickering. Push me through or I'll have your guts for garters. Alec threatened. A moment later, he felt a pair of hands grab into his lower legs and start forcing him forward. His beskar chest plate scraped loudly against metal as he reached forward and pulled himself along. Finally, with some more nudging, Alec's torso was free and he was able to clamber fully forward.
Tucking his legs against his chest as best he could with his rifle strapped there, Alec turned himself on his ass and planted his right foot against the upper edge of the collapsed shaft section. Aiming his left foot for the same edge, Alec kicked several times until the framework was bent upwards, leaving more room for Brock to pull himself through. Alec saw hands appear over the lower edge of the shaft and he leaned forward to grasp them. Brock pushed with his legs as Alec pulled with his arms, and the second Black Operator was now with him.
Alec turned and continued forward for several meters as Brock helped Cable, who in turn helped Dodge, who in turn helped Endo. Once the five Operators were free of the depressed section of ventilation shaft, they carried on as a group, sidling themselves forward for nearly fifty meters before Alec signaled another halt. The shaft was bereft of any and all light, requiring the use of infrared optics to see. With a handful of eye movements, Alec drew up the Station's blueprints on his HUD, verifying their position. Jedi knights and soldiers were said to have holed themselves up in certain areas of the Station, intent on waging a guerrilla war against the Clan forces that had taken it from them. Alec and his boys were tasked with infiltrating the sections of Yavin Station Clan forces had been unable to take since the conflict started nearly two days before. Alec had continuously checked the GALCOM net for updates on the battle down below, and had likewise maintained his reporting schedule to the Operator's leader, Delmani Altic, in an almost religious fashion every hour, on the hour.
Alright, we've reached it. Keep your weapons ready, Brock, I want a flash ready. Alec said.
Copy that… Brock replied. Flash ready.
Alec placed his hand on the ceiling of the shaft, tapping it with his fingertips to find soft spots in the metal where there would be no framework attached. Finding one, Alec activated the blade on his wrist with a jerk of his hand. It slid out with a sharp schick sound. Alec thrust forward with the blade, puncturing the thin material of the shaft, and rent a slash through it from one side of the panel to the other. Then he cut perpendicularly, cutting a second line. He worked quickly so as to keep the noise down, then began pulling the four triangular pieces of the panel inward, bending them backwards on themselves to leave a large square-shaped hole in the shaft. Through the dull green-grey light of his visor, Alec an assembly of wire conduit and small pipes running parallel with the shaft. He sliced through these using his gauntlet blade, then pried them out of the way. To the left and right he saw metal studs to which the wall panel was attached to. Grabbing a multitool out of one of his belt pouches, Alec began removing the bolts quickly from the back ends. Once all four were removed, he slipped the multitool back into its pouch and ran a hand along the edge of the panel, pushing it outwards slightly. Dim light from the emergency power systems in the hallway beyond began to shine through the crack. Alec ran a quick scan of the hallway using his helmet sensors and when nothing was found, he gripped his rifle with his free hand and angled the barrel towards the crack of dim light. He pushed down the shaft further, passed the crack in the partially removed panel, allowing Brock to slide into place directly before the opening he had cut in the shaft panel.
Ready. Check in. Alec muttered.
We're all ready when you are. Brock replied, his rifle likewise angled towards the open edge of the wall panel.
Go. Alec ordered. Brock punched the panel forcefully, sending it flying across the open hallway to crash against the floor, at the same time bringing his rifle to bear on the far end of the hallway then traversing his aim the opposite direction.
All clear. He reported quickly, placing the flash grenade back into one of his utility pouches. Alec tapped him on the side, signaling him to move. Brock pulled himself out of the ventilation shaft and dropped quietly onto the floor, moving to the left and resting on one knee, his weapon aimed down the hallway. Almost without a break, Cable was dropping out behind him, taking an opposite position in the hall. Dodge left next, joining Brock to the left, followed by Alec himself on the right and Endo, who picked up the fallen wall panel and pushed it back into place to cover their tracks. The Operators all switched their visor modes to night-light conditions, amplifying the light currently available in the environment. Alec stood and rechecked the blueprints of the Station on his HUD.
Right, we're on the lowest non-maintenance level of the Station, beneath the Engineering sectors. Our job is to clear this area of any hostiles, arrest those who surrender and killing any armed personnel who refuse. Unarmed personnel will be incapacitated and secured, for Baker Company to pick up.
Alec surveyed the area for several moments. They were in a maintenance hallway, with doors to storage rooms on either side, roughly every fifteen meters. He signaled for the group to pick up and began moving down to the left, stopping to check and clear each room. Five rooms later, they found nothing but random assortments of supplies, but no weapons or explosives and no personnel of any kind.
We'll likely not run into anyone for the next couple of levels. Cable commented as they cleared the last room in their stretch of hallway, which ended in a large, rectangular viewport. Alec nodded his agreement. We'll check them all anyhow, of course. Let's move back the other way.
As a group, the Operators began clearing the opposite direction, until they met with another hallway that continued to the right. Alec sent Brock and Dodge off to check the adjoining hallway, then continued forth with Cable and Endo to clear the remaining storage rooms. Still, they found nothing, and returned to the intersection to regroup with Brock and Dodge, whom they found sitting on a knee at the bottom of a staircase leading upwards.
Stairs, leading upwards only, I see three levels total. Brock reported, his weapon's barrel angled up the staircase. Alec told him to push on and the group began to step cautiously but quickly up the stairs until they reached the second level. Alec ordered for Endo to stay behind and watch the stairs while he and the others continued throughout the level, clearing rooms. Again they found nothing, and returned to the stairs where Endo was keeping watch.
Moving on then, I suppose. Alec muttered over the commlink.